Tension
by TheHeadphoneGirl
Summary: After Sherlock goes to get some body parts from Molly, he notices there is something wrong. Sherlock feels like he should help after all Molly's done for him, but how could he help? Well, he has just the right idea; a massage...
1. Chapter 1

*emerges slowly from a jungle bush* I have returned! I'm so sorry I've been away for so long, I blame high school... And tumblr. So this idea was rattling around in my head for a while, hope you enjoy!x

TheHeadphoneGirl

Boredom. It ached through every fibre of Sherlock's being, and was unacceptable. Usually there was always something he could be doing, if there wasn't a case he could play his beloved violin, or call John or annoy Mycroft, or experiment. But not today.

He looked at his phone again only to be disappointed again. Nothing. Not a text. A missed call, no one was even attempting to speak with him. Whether it's about a case or something else entirely. When John went away on his sex holiday with Mary, he seemed to take all the criminals with him. Even Mrs Hudson had gone to some sort of convention for lonely old people who liked a certain TV programme, a ridiculous idea, in Sherlock's head anyway. His violin sat across from him, as if mocking him for his inability to play due to...well, sherlock didn't really know what it was but it was occupying too much of his precious mind palace for him to think about it. It wasn't withdrawal, no, no that is a totally different feeling...hmm.

"Well, I can at least try and deal with this, feeling, until Barts opens I suppose" Sherlock spoke softly to himself.

He tried for a while to figure out the feeling, but he got bored of it. It seemed to change quickly and move swiftly from different rooms in his mind palace, but eventually he caught the feel and locked it in a drawer in his smallest room where he kept the rest of his feelings, not even bothering to look at what it was.

He then opened his eyes and looked at the clock. 2 hours. 2 hours until Barts was open and Molly's shift started.

"Thank God for Molly" he thought to himself. She was like an angel that, instead of giving him blessings, gave him body parts.

Sherlock can barely admit it to himself, let alone anyone else, but Molly was probably the person who knew him best outside his family. Yes John does know a large amount of detail about Sherlock's personality, and Lestrade knows his life story better than anyone, due to his criminal record, but sweet little Molly was the person who knew both inside out. She has dealt with his tantrums, his relapses and everything in between. They had known each other for 6 years. Sherlock and seen or heard about every boyfriend, every goldfish, every family visit. At first Sherlock found them unquestionably boring, but bit by bit, Sherlock slowly started to piece together Molly's life. He also started to want to ask questions about Molly, as she asked him. But that would imply caring. Couldn't have anyone knowing he cared about 'The St Barts Morgue Mouse', now could he? Well, not at that point, anyway. Sherlock then decided to piece up a sort of timeline in the Molly Hooper room of his mind palace for a while, surprisingly enjoying it.

He then suddenly opened his eyes to see it was only 15 minutes till Barts opened. He then got up, changed into his white shirt instead of the navy one he was wearing, for no reason at all, and grabbed his infamous coat and ran out the door to get a cab.


	2. Chapter 2

Hi everyone! Thank you so much for the support, this chapter is a little short, but the next one will be longer and things will be picking up. Please leave a comment! Thank you

PS, shout out to Belle Shaye, Deductions-Of-Sherlolly and TheHolmesSister for leaving a review, it is greatly appreciated, enjoy!

TheHeadphoneGirl

When Sherlock arrived at the alabaster building, he could see Molly making her way towards him. Immediately, Sherlock saw something was wrong. Her bag was on her left shoulder, not her right. Her pony tail was leaning so she was either in a rush or couldn't fix it in place properly. Due to the fact she is 4 minutes early as usual, it was probably the latter.

"Good Morning Sherlock" she said brightly. "How can I help?"

"What's wrong?" Sherlock asked, sounding impatient.

"Nothing, what makes you think something's wrong?"

"Your bag and hair to be quite frank, Molly."

"Listen Sherlock, I know our taste in clothes isn't exactly the sa-"

"No no," Sherlock interrupted "mean your hair is lopsided and your bag is on the wrong shoulder, what's wrong?"

"Oh, it's nothing to worry about," she said, making her way to the door, "I just didn't sleep well last night. Anyway, what can I do for you?

Sherlock and Molly carried on as usual that day. She carrying on her normal duties, while Sherlock sat in his stool, looking at slides and occasionally asking for her input. Then, near the end of her shift, Molly packed him 3 fingers and an eyeball to keep him busy and they left, going in opposite directions.


End file.
